Essays on hate
by Dragon Pants
Summary: It's really easy to try and be someone else.
1. Do you want to call her a bitch?

So this is just a really short ficclet, it's based off of two songs (or at least that's where the original idea is from) Pieces of you- Jewel and Kiss the Girl- Ashley Tisdale version.

But here it is, tell me who you think the other person is, I'm dying to know!!!

Anyways, Thanks to Jason (astrozombie50) for betaing because I can't type at 1 am.

Wah (warning it's kind of em0)

Peace,

Dragon Pants

Something About Her

HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM

You can see her, walking down the hall. Stomping in her little silver shoes, scowling. Throwing her hands up, she blows past. Pretending she's better than you, pretending she's above all. You're friends smirk and shudder as she passes, one of them voices what everyone is thinking, what a bitch.

Her brother, faithful consort walks by her , one step behind. Always, always matching in a way that no man in their right mind could come up with, all the complimenting makes you wonder, not for the first time, what has she done to him? With the way you act, your team acts, it makes you think sometimes, that no one likes her. How could they? She's cold, concieded, stupid.

But all in all you know the truth. There is no middle ground. People either love her, or they hate her. And for everyone that hates her, two love her, they enjoy her company, or at least try their best to please her. You also speculate however for everyone one that loves her, there is one that follows her, but secretly hates her. But that makes you wonder, how many people that say they hate her, really are infatuated with her?

Like at yourself, you are a disgrace. Here you are sitting here speculating, aren't you supposed to hate her? You do hate her, you know you do. Then why are you spending so much time on this issue? Why do you care so much?

Deep down you know. There is a reason why there is nothing in between. It's because she is who she is. She knows people hate her, she knows people use her, she uses people. And she's okay with that.

You hate her, because she is herself, no matter what. No matter the situation, the ideas or the bitchiness. She is just her. Secretly you admire her, aspire to be like her. Anything that is thrown at her she can handle. That is why she's better than you, or at least why she thinks she's better than you. And you kind of agree. Even though she may be a bitch, she's just her.

Looking at yourself, you're disgusted. You're not an individual, you ebb and flow more than the tide. Your not even your own person. You're a follower, you live to serve the greater good. Like a little worker ant, collectively called Troy's Basketball clones. It makes you hate yourself, and hater her even more.

Just for once you want to lead, to call the shots, to be the one. But you're too afraid to break out, the situation is too unstable. You're not a natural leader, nor are you a natural follower; really you're a bit of a loner. But no one thinks that because of your status. You like basketball so of course you like cheerleaders. You're stupid, but popular.

All of it is just assumptions, nothing real. For once, you just want to be yourself.

Pathetic.


	2. Does it mean that he's retarded?

This was orignally going to be a one shot about Sharpay, but then I got the idea about balance and countering things against each other. I just thought it would be really cool to do this.

and thanks to Lizzie (munchkin.pants) for betaing this fic... we have the same name!(ish)

peace!  
DP

Essays on Hate  
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You see them ahead, laughing, joking smiling. It makes you sick. Scowling; you quickly walk past them lifting your chin up in an attempt to look proud, unwavering. They laugh almost simultaneously as if everything is a joke and it makes you want to scream, but that would just be another reason for them to call you a drama queen.

Your brother, thrown off by your quickened pace, struggles to keep up, they laugh at him too. But they're allowed to laugh, to smile, to be as outgoing as possible. Any one of them could get any girl they want, probably including you. But they don't want you, to them you're cold hearted - a bitch.

They are rarely referred to by name, most often they are called, 'The basketball team,' sometimes even 'Troy's team.' You hate them because they think the world is a joke. You hate them because they can do anything and be praised for it. You hate them for always being together; if a person were to try and take one down, it would be impossible to separate him from the rest. But most of all you hate him.

He's not the loudest, not the leader, and probably not the brightest, but he's always with them laughing, grinning, merging flawlessly with the group, even though you can tell he's a bit different. Even though he seems occasionally clueless, sometimes shy, he can merge into the crowd, unnoticed, unobserved.

Now you're just being silly. You've never acknowledged him, let alone had a conversation. Yet here you are speaking as though you're a bitter ex. He's the only one that makes eye contact with you, the rest are too scared. He could easily be someone else, something different; after all, the team already has a baker and a singer. But he's comfortable where he is, and that makes you hate him more.

Although you have to admit to yourself, you are just a little bit jealous. You love the lime light - always have - but what if; what if no one knew your name, knew your story, knew you brother. You could do anything. Go out for a sport, unlikely, but the thought is nice. The thought is nice.

The shrillness of the bell snaps you back into reality, adjusting your skirt and twirling your hair, you flounce into the room the best way you know how. Stopping you flirt with the basketball captain, after all that is who you're supposed to like. They wouldn't let you settle for anything other than the best, that say that is left for your brother

Sitting down, you can't help but glance at the boy in the back of the room. He's just allowed to sit there and take it all in. You though, you must act every second, someone may be watching, and if they see you falter, just one misstep and it's all over. No one really likes you, they fear you. And the moment you show you're human, then you've lost it.

He cracks a stupid joke, and they all laugh. If you made the same sarcastic remark people would take you seriously, call you a teacher's pet, a suck up, a leech, anything else that would make you feel insignificant.

And all you want is to laugh along.

HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM

So I know it's short but I think it works, tell me what you thought.


End file.
